The Final Curse of Hades
by TrampledRose
Summary: As he turns 21, Nico di Angelo comes of age to inherit the final curse his father will pass on to him. He finds out with one night of joy - one chance to forget - and ends up spreading the curse. His friends were getting wrapped up in it one by one, including Percy. Can he manage to untangle everyone before it's too late? Biweekly update. M for suicide and other mature content.
1. Prologue

_**Hello! TrampledRose here, back with a new story. This is set a few years after the Heroes of Olympus, but in the same universe. It should update every other Tuesday, give or take. I'm just aiming for semi-regularly.**_

 _ **Please check out my profile - there are other fandoms we might have in common. You may want to read some of my other works. I also post medium summaries for stories I am considering starting. Let me know if any catch your eye, via the poll or PM.**_

 _ **I am also officially a Beta Reader now. Check out my Beta profile and please consider me if you are looking for a Beta, temporary or otherwise.**_  
 _ **I am not Rick Riordan, thus I own none of his properties (nor talent).**_

 _The Final Curse of Hades_

 _Prologue_

~Nico's P.O.V.~

On my twenty first birthday, I was bestowed the last portion of the inheritance I would receive from my Father.

No one told me I would get the heirloom. There was no warning, no prepared method to tell me how to deal with it - nothing at all to guide my experience with the bequeathed birthright.

Maybe there would have been, if Bianca had lived long enough to discover it.

I'm so fucking glad she hadn't.

* * *

On the aforementioned birthday, January twenty eighth, I did nothing.

My day did not differ from any other day other than the smiley "Happy Birthday!"s from the few people I still text. It wasn't many, just a single digit number - everyone else had stopped responding to my messages a long time ago.

But Hazel, my beloved sister, convinced me that even though I had moved away from the camps, I should still celebrate.

"Can I just get myself a cake or something?" I asked earnestly, unwilling to put much of an effort forth. "I'll even stick a candle in it."

"Nico, that's flat-out depressing." She deadpanned. "You don't seriously mean that, do you?"

I shrug, even though we're on the phone. She sighs into the silence. "Do you have something against cake now?" I follow up.

I know why she's being so hard-headed about it, though - she wanted to be with me on this day, to celebrate properly.

She side-steps the question. "Do you at least plan on drinking?"

I sigh. "I didn't." That was a half-lie. I was planning on drinking, just not tonight.

"Nico, you are impossible." She groans softly, so I know she's not really upset.

"I have to go, Hazel." I say finally.

"Alright. I love you, Nico. And if you do drink, make sure you put your napkin on top of it if you leave it, so you don't get drugged."

My mouth tips in the corner awkwardly. "Take care, Hazel."

Her call had inspired me: I was going to go try out some drinks tonight.

* * *

The bar was nothing out of the ordinary. But it felt like I shouldn't be there, like I was still too young to actually be inside of it without being scolded by the bartender and escorted out.

But the bartender barely checked my ID, and the bouncers did not grab me under the armpits and hoist me out the side door.

"What would you care for, sir?" The bartender asked, eyes sparkling because he knew my answer.

"Um, I don't know. I've never ordered a drink before."

He tilted his chin up smugly, then slid a long, laminated menu towards me, stating he'd give me a minute. Asshole.

I glanced all around the list of options, but it did not seem to help: I still didn't know what any of it tasted like, or if I liked it. There was a list of wines, and I have had red wine before, from church as a kid. I can't remember how I felt about it, other than the fact I was thirstier afterwards. But the menu did have pictures of a few of the drink selections, and one caught my eye.

"The blue one." I said, turning the tab and pointing at the picture. He raised his eyebrows as he looked down, probably not used to people ordering their drinks in this manner.

"Sure." He turned and begun preparing it.

I exhaled a shaky breath. I had just chosen my drink because it was blue. More specifically, because Percy Jackson would've gotten the "blue one".

The bartender - I know notice his name is Leraunt - serves me my drink. I mutter a thank you and wait until I am mentally prepared to take my first drink, then I take a sip. It is sweet in my mouth, but burns going down my throat. I cough and am a bit surprised that flames or sand or some shit didn't come up with it.

It sits hot in my stomach, and hurts my lungs, but it simultaneously warms my limbs all the way to my fingertips. It kind of felt nice.

I'm two thirds of the way finished with this one when I feel someone's eyes on me. I set the drink down, with the napkin on top, like Hazel said, and turn on the barstool, glancing around.

A red-headed man is staring at me from a barstool three stools down, with no one in between us. He has a well-kept beard. His brown eyes are sad, back slumped. But behind his sad eyes is an interest, a curiosity.

I nod and return to staring down my drink, wishing that he would stop staring at me and do the same. Yet after I finish this drink, he gets up and walks over.

"Is this seat taken?" He asks me in a low and soft voice, pointing at the seat to my right.

"If it is, I have a pretty shitty friend, being so late."

He smiles a sad smile and sits. I notice he is a few years older than me. "What's your name?"

I side glance him. "Nico."

"I'm Dawson. Can I buy you a drink, Nico?"

"Why?" I bristle, hands fisted on my lap in anxiety.

He smiles wider, amused. "Because I find you attractive, and though it seems a bit weird to say this so soon, I feel oddly drawn to you." He he raised his hand palm up in a one shouldered shrug, then dropped it back into his lap, a vague gesture. "I think it's those eyes."

I turn back to my glass, blushing. "Um, you realize I'm a guy, right?"

"Yes, that's kinda what I gathered."

"And you're a guy, too, no?"

He seemed to be getting confused. "If you're not into that, you could just say so. No need to get all weird about it." He started getting up.

"No." I said quickly, and a bit loudly. "No, I - I am, but . . . this is kind of new to me." I find myself admitting. "No one my type - in the sense of gender - has ever flirted with me."

I quickly regret my words. Who am I to assume that he is flirting? When did I become so arrogant?

"Are you okay with that?" His eyes shone and a slight, true smile tugged at his lips.

I look back into my empty cup. "I think so."

"So what do you say about the drink, hm?"

"Alright." I try to smile a bit, but I think it is too nervous.

What am I doing? What is he doing? I can tell he is a mortal, but that just confuses me more. If he isn't about to turn into a monster and try to kill me, what are his intentions?

"Is that drink okay?" He nods at the glass I'm clutching, bringing me out of my thoughts.

"Um, no. It was unpleasant."

"I figured, by the face you made when you drank it." He chuckled a bit, and the sound tickled my spine. "Do you have any drinking experience?"

I tell Dawson about the wine from service as a kid, and how I think I liked it, but I didn't know because it might've been stale since it was so dry.

For some reason, that made him laugh. "Nico, you're hilarious. Alright, okay, we'll try along those lines. Do you like fruit?"

"Yes."

He tried to describe a drink to me called a Sangria. "You can get really good ones from a place about six blocks away from here, but this place is okay too. Wanna try one?"

I nod. Once it is served, I try a sip, taking in a bit of apple that floated in the drink.

It was stronger than the blue drink, but tastier too.

"I like this one." I say into the cup, and enjoy Dawson's triumphant laugh. It sounded like something Percy would do.

* * *

After two Sangrias, I agreed to come with Dawson to his apartment. He seemed to have an idea of what to do when we got there, so I didn't ask.

The door closed behind us, and he told me to make myself comfortable.

"Um, okay."

I take my coat off and settle into the couch.

He turns to see where I've landed, and his cheeks get pink. "There?"

"Um..." I shift uncomfortably. "Should I move?"

"No, it's fine if you're okay with it." He sat by me, having also taken off his coat. "I'm not sure how far you would like to go with this, so just stop me if I begin crossing a line."

I don't have a moment to question him before his lips are on mine, a hand cupping my cheek, the other on my hip.

I don't stop him. Not then, not when our clothes are off, not when he takes me into his mouth, not when he enters me. I don't ask him to stop. The pleasure is a distraction.

And if I close my eyes, I can pretend that it is Percy who is doing these things to me. I make an effort not to call out any name while I release. But I open my eyes and see Dawson is still the one inside of me. And that makes my release a little less sweet.

* * *

When I wake up the next morning, I am laying there alone. I don't know how to feel about that.

I also don't know what to do now. I stand and consider going around the apartment to look for Dawson, but I just get dressed and leave.

Something feels off.

* * *

The morning after that, I find out that Dawson had killed himself.


	2. The Curse

_**I am not Rick Riordan, thus I own none of his properties (nor talent).**_

 _The Final Curse of Hades_

 _The Curse_

~Nico's P.O.V.~

 _Dawson's suicide was the first thing to happen because of the curse. It was unpredictable. There was no way I could've done anything. Even as the son of Death Himself, I could not have interfered._

 _The gods must have meddled a bit with the situation, considering no one showed up at my door to interrogate me. That, or it was just too obvious that Dawson had died by his own hand, and they didn't bother with a dead-end investigation._

 _So I had no idea I was connected._

 _Nonetheless, he died because of me._

* * *

It fazed me about as long as it fazes someone to lose a pet.

Not that Dawson was my pet, but rather, I was not very emotionally attached to him.

I suppose my brain made sense of it by reasoning that he was probably about to kill himself anyway. He was obviously pretty depressed when we met. Maybe I was a sick version of the Last Supper, or maybe the last chance he was going to take in this world. Maybe I wasn't enough.

That's not the most comforting thought, but it was still better than thinking I was the direct reason he killed himself.

In his honor, I go to the bar he had recommended me, the one with the better Sangrias, and try one. He was not joking. It was very good. For just a moment, I wished he was beside me, hearing me mumble my satisfaction and laughing that triumphant laugh.

But after a few months, Dawson was just a memory. His suicide was a thing that happened, like a kid getting lost at a fair, or in a supermarket: it causes a few nightmares, then recedes to the back of the brain, rarely heard from again.

Once it was the beginning of summer, I visited Central Park before it got too hot.

I wasn't the best at the swing set. Bianca hadn't really let me practice. It's funny how weird sisters can be - you are being chased by monsters, forced to fight for your life, and you have no definite home, but when you get the chance to visit the park, the swings are deemed too dangerous. For some reason - or perhaps for that reason - that's where I wanted to be.

There were six swings all together: blue, yellow, red, blue, yellow, red. There was a teenage boy sitting on the first red one, head down and barely swinging. I knew I was going for a blue swing, thus I took the farthest one from him. But the swings were close together, so I was still pretty close to him.

He looked up at me, and I suppose he expected me to say something, or even acknowledge him, but I just sat down and began swinging, to avoid conversation.

Again, I sucked. But even just moving a few feet was doing enough so that the kid just went back to staring at his shoes.

Yet when I went for the dismount, my balance was off and I ending up landing in a heap in front of the yellow swing between us.

The boy started laughing. I mean, snorting laughter, with no restraint.

I stood up and brushed my shirt off, face red with humiliation. "Those swings aren't made for adults." I said gruffly in defense. _I'm a trained warrior, you dickbag, stop laughing._ Of course, I couldn't say that part to the mortal.

"Oh yeah, the whole ninety pounds of ya." He said, grabbing his stomach and doubling over in the swing.

I could've just walked away, but even I had to laugh at myself. I chuckled through my sneer, until I was borderline giggling.

Once we calmed down a bit, he looked at me with his pine-needle green eyes. "Just who are you?"

"Nobody." I said flatly, trying to convey my lack of interest.

But he had taken my clumsy bit as an act to cheer him up. He wasn't looking at the tough exterior. "I'm James." He ran a hand through his thick brown hair, looking up at me with a sheepish grin.

"Good for you" was all I said as I begun walking away.

"Hey, wait." He stood up and jogged up beside me. "Where are you off to?"

"I just wanted to try the swings is all." I shoved my hands in my pockets and tucked my chin down, staring ahead.

This usually got anyone to stop talking to me. To just walk away. And that's just what everyone did, save for Percy Jackson.

And apparently, James.

"Well, do you wanna grab a coffee, then? On me." He said, walking backwards in front of me.

"Why?"

"I wanna get to know you and stuff. Maybe I think you're cute. I know I like your eyes." He turns pink and sheepish as he says this, as if he was giving _himself_ an 'aw shucks' moment.

"It's awfully hot for coffee."

"You can get it iced. Or a smoothie. Whatever you're into." He winked at me.

"What are you, Jimmy, like fifteen?" I sighed, casting my gaze to the left in disinterest.

He visibly shuddered, tugging on his sweaters' sleeve. "Please don't call me that. My uncle calls me that."

"Um, alright."

"And I'll be eighteen this month, for your information."

"My bad, then."

"Come on." He stopped, causing me to stop. "Give me a chance?"

And, after a moment, a chance is what I gave him. "My name is Nico."

* * *

We dated for a few weeks happily. James was kinda of horny half of the time, but he respected my decision to wait until he was at least eighteen to act on anything.

And when the end of the month rolled around, it was his birthday. I originally intended to make it so that we were getting into it right after midnight, as soon as possible. But the thing about James is that when he got tired, he slept. I mean, as soon as the first yawn hit him, he was out.

And I guess when I got home to see James, he was already asleep in our bed, earphones tucked into his ears and shoes on the floor just off of the mattress. It was only nine.

So I took out his ear buds, and after a snack and a few hours of Netflix, I crawled into the bed next to him, in nothing but my favorite black silk boxers and thick grey socks (with blue polka dots - James loved them because they were so out of my character, I loved them because Percy had loaned them to me and never asked for them back) and slept until morning.

* * *

James was first to wake up. This is pretty normal. But what isn't normal, is that I'm the one barely dressed. James can't normally sleep with clothes, whereas I force myself due to self-consciousness. But in all honesty? James _digs_ my abs.

"Nico?" He wakes me with his surprised acclamation. I can tell he regrets waking me - for a moment.

"Hey." I rolled over into him, smiling his favorite smile of mine, slow and lazy, but utilizing my dimple.

I feel his breath catch.

"Happy birthday, James." I mutter into his neck.

"It is, isn't it?" He breathes down my shoulder, one hand cupping my side.

"Mhm." I can feel him burrowing his nose in my hair, and can also feel him getting kinda turned on.

"I love you, Nico."

A thousand emotions attack at once. This was not only the first time that either of us have said it to each other, but it is the first time anybody has said it to me in a romantic sense. I am so overwhelmed that all I can do is give him a look to convey the emotions swirling in my head, in my chest, and kiss him, letting them flow straight inside of him directly.

It happens slowly, carefully. We take the time to enjoy each other. He is inexperienced - I take the lead for him.

Unlike Dawson and I, we fall asleep tangled in each other's arms.

Unlike Dawson and I, we are in love.

* * *

Yet once again, I wake up alone.

That dread, that off balance feeling, is there again.

I tell myself that it is just in my head, that just because he is gone doesn't mean he's dead, for the gods' sake -

Then I see it.

Blood.

* * *

I blink, and the next thing I see is the throne of Hades, complete with father standing in front of it.

Even though I should be used to it, I look around frantically before I realize I'm in the Underworld.

"Hello, Nico." Fathers' voice falls at the end, and I know he has bad news.

I'm wearing only a towel, one that was not on me before I was here.

"Father." I greet curtly. "Apologies for being abrupt, but I was very busy -" My voice waivers.

"Nico, we need to address something. Now." He says, completely ignoring me.

My tongue feels like it has swollen in my throat. "Where's James?" I choke out, eyes watering. I don't move a single muscle, not one.

He bows his head. "He's dead, son."

It knocks the breath out of me. I feel faint, and my knees shake. A chair appears behind me as I fall, and suddenly Father is next to me, grave as he directs me into the chair, then sits in another in front of me.

"I know this is hard for you. Trust me." He begins. "But there is still much to be said. You are a strong man, Nico, tell me you are strong enough right now to hear more."

I nodded silently, because this strong man does not trust his voice right now.

"You have finally inherited the last power you will receive as my child." Then he hesitates. "Power is not the correct word."

"Just say it." I interrupt. "Then _I_ will decide."

He waits just a moment, before continuing. "Anyone to, at one point - either past or present - possess a mutual attraction to you while saddened, will inevitably become severely depressed, to the point of self-harming or even suicidal actions."

He let it sink in. But it just didn't. My mind wouldn't take it.

"I-I don't..."

He must've seen my confusion. "It begins the first time you make eye contact after establishing mutual romantic interest, then progresses with the relationship."

I stare at his shoes for a good while, then hear myself say, "So, Dawson..."

"Dawson had recently lost his young nephew, the apple of his eye. He was grieving. He found a distraction in you, and as your relationship peaked, your pow- that is, ability, occurred, and before you woke up, it had spread too far." He crossed his hands, and uncrossed them. "He slit his wrists in the bathroom."

I waited, brewing over what I just heard. Dawson's death was my fault. Dawson was dead because of me.

"As for James," As he said the name, my heart raced. "He had just been disclaimed by his parents for his sexuality, and begun staying with his abusive uncle until he moved in with you."

One week ago to the day.

"During your relationship, his depression gradually increased when apart from you, until this morning, when I took you away from the sight you would behold."

"And what would that be?"

Father was silent for a while. "He shot himself."

A sob tore its way out, and I turned my head to the left, unable to look at my father.

"I know, child. I'm so terribly sorry." He said quietly.

After I was able to compose myself, I asked, "D-Did they pass okay?"

"They passed as perfectly as mortals can."

"Oh gods." Then it hit me. "Hazel." I stood quickly. "What about Hazel?"

"Don't fret." Father stood as well. "She will not get the curse. Her age is frozen in time, due to her death. She can never inherit this."

"...Curse. That is what this is called."

Not only had I killed an innocent stranger. I had killed the only one I loved as much as Percy Jackson.


	3. Jason

**_I am not Rick Riordan, thus I own none of his properties (nor talent)._**

 _The Final Curse of Hades_

 _Jason_

~Nico's P.O.V.~

 _And James, James was so different._

 _He was by far my favorite mortal. And his loss took so long to get over._

 _Actually, I never got over it. I coped, but, I mean, I_ killed _him._

 _Same story, but much longer. We were in love. His last words were a declaration of love to the man who took his life with that same affection. After a childhood of oppression from his homophobic parents and abuse from the only other family in his life, he died just as freedom came into his reach._

 _And I never got to say 'I love you' back._

* * *

When Father transported me back to the surface, the blood was gone. In fact, the bathroom was spotless.

He had cleaned up James' mess, and disposed of his corpse.

I didn't realize that that made it hurt worse until the pain punched me in the stomach. Because it was that simple for James - no one would look for him. No one cared.

" _I_ cared." I mutter, voice unsteady.

Suddenly, I remembered that when Dawson died, I had paid a tribute to his memory. If his was worth a drink, James was worth the rest of my life mourning.

No, he wouldn't like that. I squeezed my eyes shut. James would hate to see me 'mope and brood' (his words, not mine) for the rest of my living existence.

But if nothing else, I'm giving him the rest of this day. It's his birthday, after all - there are still a couple hours of daylight.

I hurrily get dressed, considering my options. There was no way I could go to the swingset, where we had met. Nor the record store he stalked around in religiously - I don't think I'd ever go back in there. That left only one place special enough - our coffee shop.

I order the same iced coffee we always shared: something mocha, with lots of whipped cream. I add cinnamon, which James always insisted on.

I take it to Central Park, nowhere near the swingset, and sip on it. It's too sweet now. Something about it makes my stomach churn. Halfway through, I lean into the trashcan on the other side of the walking path, coughing it up.

"How rude of me." I say afterwards, tears streaming down my face. "This is my gift to you, huh?" I ask no one in particular, bitter.

Once I throw the drink away and can't stand myself for doing it, I leave to go home, and pack up James things.

* * *

It is several weeks before I'm done putting his things away. Not because he had that much, but rather that I couldn't bring myself to do it. After a generous amount of antidepressants to drown myself in, I numbly finished.

Only one shoebox worth of things was kept back for me: His earbuds; his phone; his favorite hoodie; and a few pictures of us from his Polaroid.

The rest I was to donate to a clothing drive, save the string of Christmas lights he had us put in our room - I was just going to throw that away.

The Christmas lights were probably going to be the only thing I regret when my brain functioned properly again.

Once I returned home, I was surprised to see Jason standing outside my door, fist poised to knock. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye before turning to me, surprised.

"Nico."

"Jason." I said uneasily after a moment - the drugs caused my brain to stutter over who he was.

He smiled slightly, kindly. "Can I come in? I wanted to talk to you."

I frowned. I didn't want him to come in. I should check with James first, it was still our -

Oh.

Shit.

That one hurt me so badly I grabbed around myself and nearly doubled over. It slipped right past me. How could I do that?

"Nico!" He rushed forward to check that I was okay, then took the keys from my hand, opening my door and guiding me inside to the couch.

As he closed the door behind him, I made a promise to myself to never take more than the prescribed amount of my antidepressants, afraid of slipping up again.

"Nico, are you feeling bad?" He asked, hovering over me and trying to make eye contact. "Do you need anything? Nico, look at me already!" He grabbed my face and made me look at him.

I had no idea that that was when I broke Jason Grace.

I didn't catch on to the hitch in his breath. I didn't understand the strange flicker of black that passed through his irises like a shadow. I didn't know that the Curse had spread again.

"Nico, please tell me you're okay." He insisted, softer this time.

"I-I'm fine." I consented, turning my gaze downward. "Just tired."

He huffed, unsatisfied. "Should I go? Am I bothering you?"

I just shook my head. "I don't know."

Jason paused. "Then I'll stay till you do know."

 _Bad idea._ My brain provided. But I was still so foggy that it was merely a fleeting thought.

So Jason sat on the couch beside me, hands on his knees. "Um, should I put a movie in or something?"

"I don't have movies. I just have CD's."

Jason nodded slowly before moving to put one in. I could tell he didn't recognize most of the bands I was into, so he just picked the softest looking one and sitting back down.

As the tracks played through, my body slowly leaned into his - first my head rested on his shoulder, then my hands moved between us, my arms then wrapped around him and I buried my face into his neck. And Jason was cool with it. He even held me closer, and angled himself so I was more comfortable.

When the whole CD had played, I pulled away from Jason. "Thank you -" I started.

But he had leaned in and kissed me instead.

I pulled back. "Jason?"

He flushed. "Sorry, I- it just seemed appropriate..."

"Well, it wasn't!" I found myself pushing through the haze with panic and anger. "It was wrong!"

"Nico, I'm sorry..." He attempted to amend it.

"You should leave." I said firmly. I got up and went to the door, opening it and gesturing outside.

"I can't leave you like this. I don't know what's wrong, and you can barely stand up -"

"I can handle myself." I bark. "I've survived this long, haven't I? And I've literally been through Hell."

It hangs in the air for a moment, then Jason stands up, brushes himself off, and leaves wordlessly. If there's anything Jason gets, it's that he shouldn't wound my pride.

That being said, as soon as I shut the door, I pass out.

* * *

When I wake up, I get that dread feeling again, and nearly start crying immediately.

I grab my phone and call Frank, the first contact I have from Camp Jupiter. He picks up.

"Nico?"

"Frank, hi. I have a question."

"This is a bad time, Nico." I don't miss the note of sadness in his voice.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"It's Jason."

I choke. "What happened?"

"He attempted... he tried to kill himself."

I bow my head. "Is he okay?"

"He'll be fine. But the camp is voting to send him off to, well, a safe place."

"What does that mean?"

"He's very unstable. He's in hysterics. It's a good thing Leo found him when he did."

"Frank, I'm so sorry." I grab a handful of my hair, trying to stay awake as another wave of the drugs hits.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Here, I have a minute. What did you need?"

"...Nothing." I hang up and fall backwards again. The medicine pulls me under again, and this time, it almost feels like shadow traveling.


	4. Cecil

**_Apologies for missing an update – I was unable to get to a computer. This chapter is for last week, and a chapter will also go up next week. Updates will then even out as usual._**

 ** _I am not Rick Riordan, thus I own none of his properties (nor talent)._**

 _The Final Curse of Hades_

 _Cecil_

~Nico's P.O.V.~

 _Just as everyone suspected, Jason's breakdown was my fault._

 _From what you know now, that shouldn't surprise you terribly._

 _Jason was last seen sane claiming to come check on me. When he came back, he was silent, mad, and desperate to get to his own cabin._

 _No matter how many times I said otherwise, Camp Jupiter was convinced I consciously did something to him. But I was somehow able to plead that he was fine at my house, and that with all of the stress he was under, it was bound to happen._

 _And eventually, they went for it._

 _Sometimes I wish I was just persecuted instead._

* * *

Every now and again, someone would update me on Jason's condition. But he never really changed.

"He's eating again." Piper offers. "Just a broth-soaked dinner roll, but its progress."

"The doctor told me that he keeps screaming for you at night." Leo inquires. "I'm not tryin' to say anything by that, but I was just curious - er, I just wanted you to know."

"They had to cut all of his hair away." Reyna says mournfully. "He kept pulling it out and making his scalp bleed. It freaked the nurses out to see him in hysterics with blood surrounding his face."

"I hope he gets better soon." Frank is anxiously recounting. "The camp can barely function with him. It's like we're all in that room."

"You must feel so horrible, Nico." Hazel coaxes. "I know it isn't your fault, but no one dropping the subject while you are suffering as much as any of us; I wish I could take that burden from you."

"He'll get better." They all say desperately. "He's making progress. We might be able to visit him soon. He will be out in no time."

"Jason Grace will never leave that hospital." Father says, face grave. "Hope is mortals' way of coping with difficult things. But this Curse only gets worse as time goes on."

"Can I go see him?" I asked once.

"If you do, it'll only speed up the process. The choice is yours: neither is right nor wrong."

* * *

Just before I lose my mind about my choices, I get a special piece of mail. It is an invite, for a party hosted by Cecil.

I don't want to go.

But just as I decide not to show up, I read the bottom line.

 _Because I know everyone could use some time to forget about this crap, just for a night._

And suddenly, I know I'm attending.

* * *

When the day comes, I shadow travel to the party, scaring a couple heading to the dark corner I suddenly step out of.

"Gods, Nico!" The girl, who is vaguely familiar, says as she turns away.

I move around some until I spot Annabeth Chase. I quickly retreat, scared I might find Percy with her. But she comes after me alone.

"Hey, Nico! Glad you made it!" She says, smiling.

"That makes one of you." I mutter. A man passes, offering people drinks, and I quickly reach for one.

"Nico, don't drink underage." Annabeth scolds.

I sneer. "I just turned twenty one."

"Really?" She deadpans.

"What, you want my ID?" I knock back the chute, glaring at her with one eye.

She rolls her eyes and makes up an excuse to leave.

It is not long after that Cecil spots me, and enthusiastically wraps an arm around my neck.

"Hey! I was so sure you weren't gonna show up." He says joyfully.

"Yeah, um, me either." Cecil and I weren't terribly close, but I was glad that he still thought me to be his friend.

"Well, I'm happy to see ya." He grinned. "Will is around here somewhere. He was askin' if anyone had seen you yet. You should say hi." He waved as he walked away, going to greet the next guest too show up.

I decide to avoid Will for now, knowing he will just have a bunch of questions. I also wasn't in the mood for his touchiness.

So for the next hour or so, I drink. And I just a new sensation, different from the previous times I've ingested alcohol.

Drunk.

It's so strange. I feel a thousand times happier, though I struggle to hide that. Everything also spins. A lot.

I make the fabulous decision to go find trouble.

And it's Cecil who will get sucked into it.

I catch his eye from across the room, and he seems surprised for a moment before a small grin forms on his face. I grin back, and nearly collapse in a pile of giggles at the weird satisfaction I get.

We spend another hour slinking around each other, seeing who can find the other quicker.

And eventually, I lose him entirely. But as I turn around, he's right there in front of me.

"Oh, hi." I gasp.

"Nico." Is all he says, taking my hand and pulling me into a room behind him.

I don't have time to question what is happening before his lips are on mine. He is greedy and fast about it, and my drunk mind can't keep up.

It takes several minutes before I register his erection pressing into my pants, and he mutters something against my lips.

"What?" I reply.

He lets out one short chuckle. "I asked if you would suck me."

My brain supplied the fact that I really didn't want to do that with him. I was content having him as a friend.

"Cecil..." I began, looking at him desperately.

He seemed to get a whole different message from that, and pushed me semi-roughly against the wall, a hand shoving me down at the shoulder until I was on my knees. His other hand fumbled with the zipper needily.

"Cecil, wait -"

"No." He said gruffly, drawing out his length. My head hit the wall as I tried to scramble away from it. "I'm done waiting for you. And now that I know you want me too, I can't possibly hold back."

He grabbed my chin and pulled my face forward, and I screamed loudly.

"Nico!" He said, alarmed. He took several steps backward, letting me stand up and dart for the door. "Nico, hold up!"

I tried to get to the door quickly, but too many people had heard me scream. Everyone was battle-ready, looking for the demigod devouring monster. They all tried to stop me from leaving, asking what was wrong and what they needed to do. I pushed past all of them.

Just as I reached the door, Will grabbed my arm and turned me. "Nico, are you alright?"

I panted and struggled against him, but I wasn't going to get away without an answer.

"Cecil... he's acting just like Jason did when he came to see me." I explained quickly. "Keep an eye on him. Please."

I freed my arm and turned again.

"Then where are you going?" He called after me.

 _Anywhere._ My brain whimpered, tears filling up my eyes as I slipped into a shadow.

Drunken shadow traveling is not accurate at all. Because I don't know where the hell I end up.

But my gut tells me I'm far enough away, and so I hail a taxi. I ask if he was able to take me to my address, and he became confused.

"You do know that is on other side of country?" He asks. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I reply, and walk away.

Not having money on me, I can't afford a hotel room. I end up sleeping on the streets, my phone turned off to keep the questions from the party-goers away.


	5. Will

**_Apologies for the short chapter. Hope it is still good._**

 ** _I am not Rick Riordan, thus I own none of his properties (nor talent)._**

 _The Final Curse of Hades_

 _Will_

~Nico's P.O.V.~

 _I'm not sure how long it took for me to be told about Cecil. But eventually, Annabeth texted me to ask what the Hades happened that night._

 _I was honest this time. I told her that Cecil had forced himself on me while I was drunk, and I left in a panic._

 _I withheld that it was kind of my fault._

 _In the same week, Jason successfully killed himself in the Asylum. Father informed me, but refused to tell me the method._

 _It must've been horrible._

* * *

I had two tributes to account for that time. I attended both of their funerals, out of any creativity they deserve.

While I'm at Cecil's, Will hardly ever leaves my side, always there. He barely says a word most of the time.

The longest conversation we have is when he informs me of the contents of Cecil's suicide note upon request.

"His main point was that he was sick of messing everything up." He said, watching me carefully. "He mentioned that the last straw was getting drunk off his mind and hurting you."

I laugh quietly, but it soon turns into sobbing. Will drew me into his chest and I buried my face, screaming repeatedly as he rubbed circles on my back.

* * *

I have barely left the house, afraid of everyone. Or rather, what I do to everyone.

The only place I travel regularly to is to visit Father. He mainly just helps me deal. We talk about anything and everything except the Curse. Father keeps a calm in his demeanor, but it is far from the sympathy I receive on Earth. He knows that I am sick of it.

Only once to I venture into the topic unnecessarily. "Will it ever get easier to manage?" I ask. "Is there a way to learn how to control it?" He is silent, causing me to rush on. "I mean, like, to subdue its effects. Maybe, a lover will get really depressed, but not suicidal, if I love them back enough? Or, if -"

"Nico." He interrupts, voice rough. "I forbid you from thinking such thoughts any further." He looks down. "It will never get better."

A crooked smile drapes across my face, even as tears run down my face. "Oh. Okay."

* * *

It's months later when I hear from Will again. He is in much better spirits, having accepted what has happened. He asks to hang out.

I don't respond for two days, before I make the decision that if he had caught the Curse, he probably would've killed himself by now.

Then I realize that he had wanted to hang out the day before. I had gotten another text from him.

 _That's okay, Neeks. Maybe another time, then._

* * *

But he never texts. I don't bother initiating it, either.

Then suddenly, I get a short text.

 _I'm sorry, Neeks. But I'm done being the friend._

I hurriedly reply, _What do you mean?_

Then, _Will?_

I call seven times before I call Leo.

"Hey, sup, man?" He answers.

"Will." I choke. "Go get Will!" He quickly hangs up.

But I get a text hours later, telling me it was too late.


	6. Percy, 1

**_I am not Rick Riordan, thus I own none of his properties (nor talent)._**

 _The Final Curse of Hades_

 _Percy, 1_

~Nico's P.O.V.~

 _I can't even express my grief, even here. Not properly._

 _If I had any brains, any sense whatsoever, I would've stopped._

 _But it took one more soul._

* * *

Percy Jackson was relentless.

No matter how many times I turned him away, he asked over and over.

"Can I come over? I just want to check on you. Please, I know that you're suffering."

 _You have no idea._ "The answer's no, Jackson." I reply coldly every time. "But thank you for your concern."

But after a good handful of times, he broke in to my apartment. And I nearly sliced his head off.

As soon as the door began being picked, I drew my sword, and after it opened, I had Percy Jackson pinned against the wall, blade to throat.

"N-Nico!" He gasped. "It's okay!"

"Why did you just do that?" I screamed, pressing forward.

"You wouldn't let me in." He said meekly. "I was worried about you. It was your birthday yesterday."

I took a step back, letting him breathe a bit.

"Didn't you know that, Nico?"

"...Leave."

"But, I just got here." He said, that aloof smile placed perfectly.

"I said, get out!" He yelled.

Percy paused suddenly, seeing the look in Nico's eyes. "Now's a bad time, isn't it?"

"What fucking gave it away?" Nico growled.

Percy looked down. "I'll come back, you know."

Nico cried out. "Fine! I don't care! But not today." He practically shoved Percy out of the door, closing it firmly behind him.

* * *

Nico entered the Underworld with tears streaming down his face. "Father."

The god turned around towards him instantly. "I know, son."

Nico collapsed onto the ground helplessly. "Why did this have to happen today? Why?"

Hades stood motionless, but they both thought the same thing.

It was one year ago that day that the first death had occurred on account of the Curse.

No, this was not the right day at all.


	7. Percy, 2

**_I am not Rick Riordan, thus I own none of his properties (nor talent)._**

 _The Final Curse of Hades_

 _Percy, 2_

~Nico's P.O.V.~

 _Percy was so... Percy. It's infuriating. But I loved him._

 _I couldn't help it. I loved him so strongly that eventually, I let him in my life. I thought, if my love was genuine enough in return, I could keep him alive._

 _I was wrong._

* * *

It's his fault.

It's his fault.

I repeat this over and over, but I know the truth. Percy could not keep the Curse in check. Now he is dead.

He came back to the house again. I let him in.

We kissed.

I kicked him out. I let him back in.

It's his fault.

I told him about the Curse. I let him kiss me again. I let him be my boyfriend.

I let us have sex. I woke up the next morning.

He was alive.

He was broken.

He was mad like Jason. He was depressed like James.

He was already gone.

I let him go home to cope.

He didn't cope.

He killed himself.

It's my fault.

 _This has to stop._


	8. Percy's Tribute

**_Final chapter._**

 ** _I am not Rick Riordan, thus I own none of his properties (nor talent)._**

 _The Final Curse of Hades_

 _Percy's Tribute_

~3rd Person's P.O.V.~

 _On my twenty first birthday, I was bestowed the last portion of the inheritance I would receive from my Father._

 _No one told me I would get the heirloom. There was no warning, no prepared method to tell me how to deal with it - nothing at all to guide my experience with the bequeathed birthright._

 _Maybe there would have been, if Bianca had lived long enough to discover it._

 _I'm so fucking glad she hadn't._

 _Dawson's suicide was the first thing to happen because of the Curse. It was unpredictable. There was no way I could've done anything. Even as the son of Death Himself, I could not have interfered._

 _The gods must have meddled a bit with the situation, considering no one showed up at my door to interrogate me. That, or it was just too obvious that Dawson had died by his own hand, and they didn't bother with a dead-end investigation._

 _So I had no idea I was connected._

 _Nonetheless, he died because of me._

 _And James, James was so different._

 _He was by far my favorite mortal. And his loss took so long to get over._

 _Actually, I never got over it. I coped, but, I mean, I_ killed _him._

 _Same story, but much longer. We were in love. His last words were a declaration of love to the man who took his life with that same affection. After a childhood of oppression from his homophobic parents and abuse from the only other family in his life, he died just as freedom came into his reach._

 _And I never got to say 'I love you' back._

 _Just as everyone suspected, Jason's breakdown was my fault._

 _From what you know now, that shouldn't surprise you terribly._

 _Jason was last seen sane claiming to come check on me. When he came back, he was silent, mad, and desperate to get to his own cabin._

 _No matter how many times I said otherwise, Camp Jupiter was convinced I consciously did something to him. But I was somehow able to plead that he was fine at my house, and that with all of the stress he was under, it was bound to happen._

 _And eventually, they went for it._

 _Sometimes I wish I was just persecuted instead._

 _I'm not sure how long it took for me to be told about Cecil. But eventually, Annabeth texted me to ask what the Hades happened that night._

 _I was honest this time. I told her that Cecil had forced himself on me while I was drunk, and I left in a panic._

 _I withheld that it was kind of my fault._

 _In the same week, Jason successfully killed himself in the Asylum. Father informed me, but refused to tell me the method._

 _It must've been horrible._

 _I can't even express my grief, even here. Not properly._

 _If I had any brains, any sense whatsoever, I would've stopped._

 _But it took one more soul._

 _Percy was so... Percy. It's infuriating. But I loved him._

 _I couldn't help it. I loved him so strongly that eventually, I let him in my life. I thought, if my love was genuine enough in return, I could keep him alive._

 _I was wrong._

 _I know that the first person to see this note will be you, Hazel. It couldn't be anyone else - there is no one left._

 _Please know that the Curse will not be passed to you. Father can explain, if you ever stress further about it._

 _I need you to find it in your heart to forgive me. Know that I never wanted to kill a single person. But it happened. Please understand that I never had a choice in this. Also, if this by any means helps, they died by my influence, but not by my hand._

 _At least with my death, this will stop._

 _By the time you read this, I will be dead. I am still not sure how I want to do this. Traditionally, I should use my sword and cut my arms open. Vertically, right?_

 _Actually, I have never been traditional. I have decided._

 _By the time you read this, I will be dead. My body is in the bottom of the lake, or the top, depending. Shit floats, I'm told._

 _I love you, Hazel. Remember that there was no alternative, nor was there a way to live with the damage I caused._

 _Goodbye._


End file.
